Didi
“Idon’t like this, Diana,” Mama says, frowning as she watches me get ready for work on Saturday. “First you leave me every day for school, and now this. You’re abandoning me.”
I pull the red-and-white-striped shirt on and button it up. It fits tightly around my breasts, which seem bigger despite my malnourishment. I hope Mama doesn’t notice, but she does…and she scowls.
“I’m not abandoning you, Mama. I’m getting us food.
I’m trying to take care of you.” I need to get out of this house; this place is unbearable.
I’m starting to not stand her, either. Plus, I broke a jar of pickles at my shift yesterday and Mrs. Holly says I need to pay it off, but I already work for free…
She puffed smoke into my face just like Mama does when she’s mad at me. “I ain’t no charity, girl.”
Mrs. Holly reminds me of Mama. Single, scorned and spiteful, with a deep line in her forehead causing her to look like she permanently scowls.
She smells like Mama, and is mean like Mama, too. Her teeth are yellow from her menthols.
Life isn’t kind to bitter women. They lose their spark, and all that’s left is hate. They dwell in it. I refuse to become like that. I simply can’t.
Mama hasn’t left the house since she won at bingo. Said people are out to get her in town, and it’s because of me. Says people are asking about me at Church.
This is when she spirals the most.
Her eyes narrow, focusing on my chest as I leave one button undone, and begin to brush my hair.
“Why are you dressed like a slut?”
“Mama…”
She snarls and folds her arms. “Well, you are.”
I frown but don’t respond, and glance down at my outfit. It’s a striped shirt. My skin is covered. Sluts don’t wear clothes like this.
Although I’m not sure what kind of clothes sluts wear because I’ve never seen one. It’s just a word to me that Mama throws out like I’m supposed to understand what that means. Cindy wears skimpy clothes, although I think Cindy looks nice in her outfits. I’d die to look like her one day.
I walk over and rest my hand on hers, hoping to keep her calm.
“Mama, it’s a uniform for work. This is how I can feed myself, so you don’t have to feed me anymore.
You can spend the money you get on rent, so we don’t get kicked out.
” Mama only has so much leftover money after rent is paid from her welfare check.
If she’s not going to bingo, she has nothing.
And since she’s not going out right now…
She shakes her head, and I swear, in the short time we’ve been here, she’s aged ten years. She’s getting crazier with every day she spends alone in this house.
All she does is pray.
She believes a demon resides within these walls… She believes that the demon is me.
She pulls her hand away and gives the sign of the cross as if cleansing herself from my evil. She’s done this recently, I’ve noticed, every time she makes any physical contact with me. As if touching me will damn her.
She folds her arms and leans against the door of my tiny bedroom. “God will take care of you, Diana, if you let him. You’re slipping farther away from him. He can fix you…I can’t fix you anymore.”
God isn’t taking care of me. I need to take care of myself. And I’m not sure how he can fix me. He can’t magically take away the white in my pupils or make my hair a different pigment.
All I can do is wear this belt willingly, show my devotion and stop myself from indulging in this cardinal sin.
I pull it on, and Mama walks over with the key and locks it in place.
The lock rubs at the apex of my thigh. After tears and screaming, she finally let me take it off the past few nights.
But only while I’m at home and only under her supervision.
But it’s enough since my blisters have finally scarred and healed.
Her eyebrows furrow, deepening the lines on her face, and she grabs my chin. “I will not raise a sinful daughter, do you understand?”
I drag my trousers on, and I flip my hands through my hair. “I got a job, Mama. It’s not sinful to work. It’s what normal people my age do.”
I slip my cross around my neck and make my bed on the springy mattress on the floor. She puckers her lips. “You remember what I tell you, girl. You stay away from boys, do you understand? I’ll not have a slut daughter. I did not raise a sinful whore.”
“Mama. Stop saying that.”
I imagine Tommy and Remy watching this, and the sheer horror if they knew what my life was really like. Would they like me so much then?
I lower my gaze. “I won’t go near any boys, Mama, I promise.” I hesitate before I ask, “Can you…can you please take it off? I don’t want it to get infected, and it…it hurts when I walk. Just while I’m working, Mama, please? The chafing is terrible.”
She shakes her head. “No. You need it more than ever. The temptation has never been stronger.”
Tears spill out of my eyes. “Mama, please. I’m begging you.”
Her face turns crimson. “You’re a vile, evil little child,” she says slowly. “You want to ruin me more than you already have. You want to bring me shame, Diana.”
“Mama, I won’t bring you shame.”
“You already have,” she spits. I see it in her eyes.
Once she’s like this, her anger’s an unstoppable force she drowns in.
“Evil resides within you, Diana. I cannot let you spawn a child. I will not be held accountable for letting more evil into the world. If you get pregnant, I will cut that baby out of you, do you hear me?”
“Mama,” I scream, and this startles her. I lower my voice. “I don’t want to bring you shame. I’m in pain.” She’s gone insane. Utterly insane. I occasionally wonder if she might kill me herself to rid the world of me.
She recovers and walks up to me, pressing the back of her hand on my cheek. “You have a darkness inside you, my sweet girl. I’ve seen it. It’s a possession you can’t control. It’s insidious.”
I don’t sense any evil lurking—just hunger. She’s the evil one.
“Mama, you can’t keep me like this forever. I’ll be an adult soon. What you’re doing will get you put in jail.”
She slaps me…hard across the face, and I cower, holding my cheek. I let out a sob as the pain radiates across my face.
My face stings, and I stand frozen, waiting for her to do it again. Instead, she clutches her cross and drops to her knees, begging for mercy on the floor in front of my feet.
Mama never hits me…only once, and I deserved it. I stole from the local store and got caught. She wasn’t mad that I stole because she ate the food shamelessly; she was mad I got caught.
Thou shalt not steal.
But what if you’re hungry? She sent me back the week after to get more, and because I am pious, I will always honor my mother’s wishes.
I’m obedient, and honor my mother, but naturally, I get no credit for that.
Mama is a walking contradiction, only taking the pieces of the Bible that suit her.
She closes her eyes and starts to mumble—incomprehensible, whispered jumble. She could stay like this for hours if I let her.
“Okay…Mama,” I whisper, running my hand through her hair as if she’s worshiping me. “I’m sorry.”
Something snaps her back, and her eyes widen when she sees me standing above her, holding my cheek.
Her eyes soften, and she rises, lifting her arms. “Diana… Oh, my beautiful Diana. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you.”
She flails to the floor, falling to my feet and crying. I’m still shaking as I stare at her, broken, lonely, and damned.
I press through her hair as she starts to sob into my belly. “It’s okay, Mama. I know you didn’t mean it. I deserved it.”
Her hands find my belt, and, for a moment, I think she might unlock it. “You can’t ever take this off. Promise me you will never take this off.”
“I promise,” I whisper.